100 Best Movies on Plex Right Now

You’d need to have a lot of trust in people and in movies to like this one. Ordinary Angels is the true story of how a community came together to help a five-year-old in need of a liver at a time when her father was barely making ends meet, having just recently lost his wife to cancer. The film benefits from restraint; it’s not overly sentimental, despite its tragic premise, and has a great and grounded pair of leads in Swank and Ritchson. It’s old-fashioned too and recalls the Oscar-bait sort of films that used to fly in the ‘90s and early aughts—Swank herself is dressed like Julia Roberts in Erin Brockovich. The only drawbacks of the film, really, are its unexplained motivations. Why is Sharon sacrificing so much time, energy, and money for this family? The film trusts that, because they happened in real life, her efforts need no expounding. But that leaves us feeling confused. There are also religious (Christian) references that might feel too heavy-handed for some viewers. But otherwise, the film is inspiring if occasionally cloying.

Artists take what’s intimate and personal and transform it into art, but, especially for those who became famous for their work, it can feel challenging to tackle certain subjects, profit from it, and make it part and parcel of your artistic identity, especially when it stems from personal trauma. Things Behind the Sun depicts a rock singer who became famous on her song about rape. It’s a tad harrowing, and the flashbacks get rather graphic, but through focusing primarily on Sherry’s journey and not forcing forgiveness between the characters, Things Behind the Sun is able to capture what it means to survive the horrible, to confront it again, and to actually heal.

Blood Tea and Red String is cryptic as hell. There’s no dialogue, the film was in production for around 13 years, and the stop-motion animated rats and bat-crow creatures fight over a stuffed human-like doll and her bird-bodied child, spilling some tea and sewing her together with help from frog priests and a spider woman that keeps spinning her web. Whether the film is an allegory for class struggle and the inherent destructiveness of art, or is a straightforward Alice-in-Wonderland-esque fairytale with goth and medieval motifs is up to the viewer, but either way, the symbolism of Blood Tea and Red String is interesting enough to watch and try to make your own conclusions.

Much like its monster, Brotherhood of the Wolf is quite a hard movie to pin down. It’s an unscary French creature feature but it’s a rather refreshing period drama romance, made much more action-packed courtesy of a randomly placed, supposedly Iroquois, talented martial artist. Yet somehow, it works. Perhaps it works because it was released ahead of many other early aughts action horror films, and perhaps, at CGI’s infancy, it’s a bit easier to suspend disbelief over the wolf, but the wacky experimentation writer-director Christophe Gans brings in depicting this historical beast is just so entertaining to watch. Brotherhood of the Wolf is just pure bonkers.

While cable television didn’t have the same prestige as movies for decades, nevertheless the format garnered some influence, even then, with generations of viewers and filmmakers growing up in the medium. Dark Shadows is one such influential television show, and its journey from middling soap opera to groundbreaking drama is depicted in Master of Dark Shadows. Viewers totally unfamiliar with the 60s-70s program might only appreciate the film for its slice of media history, as the documentary takes a rather ordinary, interview-focused approach, but Master of Dark Shadows is clearly a tribute to Dan Curtis, the man behind the midday monsters, and the legions of fans it inadvertently garnered.

It’s not fair to say if you’ve read the book, you’ve seen the movie, but it’s also not wholly untrue. Greg Sinise’s version of the classic tale by John Steinback adds little new details to the story, so the actors have some heavy lifting to do in bringing it to life. Thankfully, they do a fine job. Sinise and Malkovich strike an affecting camaraderie, believable till its tragic end. Malkovich has the meatiest role as the mentally challenged Lennie, and to his credit, he gives the character sensitivity and grace. He isn’t always believable (or maybe I’ve just seen him in too many wry and manipulative roles), but his turn as a sweet giant is always touching. For a more recent generation, the film might bring to mind the ethical question famously asked by the NBC series The Good Place: what do we owe each other? What does George owe his disabled cousin and how far is he willing to put his life over his own? Though the parable at the core of this film is familiar, it’s nonetheless thought-provoking and heartbreaking.

The Apprentice is as much about Roy Cohn as it is about the titular mentee, a very green Donald Trump. It’s Cohn who teaches Trump the dirty tricks and the power moves, and it’s he who instills in him his everlasting entitlement. It’s also Cohn who arguably steals the show. As expected, Strong disappears into his character and is at once terrifying and pathetic, but always arresting. Stan is less effective as Trump, but his more subtle turn as the real estate mogul still works, especially when set against Cohn’s more hardened and vulnerable persona. The film is powered by these two; without them, it moves like any old tale about greed, power, and betrayal. It doesn’t shy away from Trump’s known grotesqueries, but it also could’ve benefited from leaning into them more, a la Wolf of Wall Street. As it stands, The Apprentice is familiar fare elevated by the engaging performances of two of Hollywood’s best-working character actors.

Why do we cling to the people that we love, but who clearly don’t treat us well? It’s a common question in romance films, one that often leads to a conclusion that people shouldn’t feel shackled to partners that don’t treat them right, but sometimes other films seem to shame these unfortunate lovers for making the wrong choice. My King doesn’t do that. Sure, Georgio can seem like an obvious asshole (he is), but writer-director Maïwenn makes clear that the same things that make him erratic– his spontaneity, his enjoyment of life, and his open acceptance– which Vincent Cassel superbly embodies, are also the same things that attracted Tony in the first place. And as Tony recovers her knee, the careful interstitching between her time at the center and her romance with Georgio visually parallels the physical and emotional wounds in an interesting way. Mon Roi is familiar romance stuff, but it’s the approach that makes the film work.

What would it take to push you to kill? Thankfully, for the general public, modern everyday life would not likely push you to (so far), but in certain circumstances, people might be surprised at the lengths they’re willing to go to for their loved ones. Brawl in Cell Block 99 depicts a man pushed into those circumstances, and thus director S. Craig Zahler takes this to extremely violent ends, with blood gushing and bones crushing all to save his family. Plotwise, Brawl in Cell Block 99 would be typical prison film fare, but fans of Vince Vaughn would appreciate his performance here.

The choice between practicality and passion is the subject of many a drama, but A Thousand Times Good Night depicts that passion stemming from a different place. Rather than pure expression, or creativity, director Erik Poppe depicts the passion of his former profession of photojournalism stemming from social importance– not just status, but in possibly changing the course of history. The semi-autobiographical story clearly has an understanding of the craft, and with her moving performance, Juliette Binoche proves to be an effective proxy, as her character takes risks her family find it hard to tolerate, and as continually choosing those risks, also entails influencing your family to make that same sacrifice. Some viewers might not agree with these choices, but nevertheless A Thousand Times Good Night is a palpable character study of someone whose career is personally interlinked with their advocacy, their identity, and their philosophy of what the world should prioritize.

Niagara is an interesting intersection of cinema. For one, it was the first time Marilyn Monroe was given top billing, just before her succeeding ditzy blonde roles. And two, it was a Technicolor noir thriller at a time when color started to take over Hollywood. So it’s already pretty cool to see Monroe as a femme fatale, but Niagara thoughtfully improves upon that idea by taking the lust, envy, and jealousy surrounding Monroe’s stage persona and using it as the catalyst for a captivating murder mystery set in the honeymoon capital of the world. Niagara might be one of Monroe’s lesser known works, but it’s one that presented a dimension we wish she got to explore more in her career.

What is it about the 2000s-10s that inspired many films about sick and dying kids? Perhaps the worldwide child mortality rate has dropped low enough that storytellers feel it’s the right time to talk about it, but regardless of the reason, they have the same familiar plotline– the diagnosis, the acting out, and finally, resolving whatever relationship the film is centered on in order to make things right. Death of a Superhero added animation representing the lead’s artistic outlet, but really, it’s still the same plot, graffiti’d on occasion. Still, the usual beats work because the film doesn’t try to manipulate huge melodramatic moments made to make the viewers cry. Instead, like the protagonist, it tries to keep things realistic, and maybe have some fun along the way. Death of a Superhero mostly pulls it off with its excellent cast.

Is Australia’s The Sapphires better than America’s Dreamgirls? Well, in terms of the films about these girl groups, it’s a bit of a challenge to compare considering historical inaccuracy. Nevertheless, writer Tony Briggs tells his family’s story with finesse, taking the real life narrative to tell us a surprisingly multilayered story of Aboriginal Australia in the 70s, of singers inspired by soul across the Pacific, and of a family torn apart by forced adoptions and state-sanctioned separation of white-passing mixed-race children. There are times when it stumbles into the usual biopic traps, and some of the inaccuracies do detract focus from the central ladies, but The Sapphires still works with its sweet, wholehearted characters, and the way they present their songs.

One of the worst aspects of war in general is that it always interferes with the hopes and dreams of the people that are living through it. The Road Dance depicts a small Scottish village in World War I, and a woman whose plan had been interfered with. It’s a bleak story, one that’s been inspired from an anecdote passed down through generations, but while the film doesn’t claim to be accurate, it does depict a tragedy that is difficult to talk about with sensitivity and the rare compassion that was granted sporadically to real life survivors. Writer-director Richie Adams softens some of the dark parts from John MacKay’s original novel, and while some of the plot veers a tad too much to melodrama, the three leading women– Hermione Corfield, Morven Christie, and Ali Fumiko Whitney– depict the central family with grace amidst the stunning landscape of the Outer Hebrides. The Road Dance can be triggering, but it’s worth watching for people that love period dramas.

Picture this: Hugh Grant falls for an American out of his league. Helping him boost his confidence are his long-time friends, a clique that includes a sibling and a kooky roommate. Grand professions of love are made and timing plays a crucial role in how Grant gets the girl. What you’ve just read may remind you of Notting Hill, but it’s actually true, too, of the lesser known but equally beloved Four Weddings and a Funeral. Both are written by Richard Curtis, but while Notting Hill is sleeker and smoother—more accessible to a wider audience—Four Weddings feels grungier and riskier. As the title suggests, it follows Charles (Grant) and his friends as they get invited to one wedding after another, which forces them to think about love and what it means in this day and age. Do people get married just to feel less lonely? Is true love a naive figment of our imaginations or is it real? Charles thinks it may be the latter when he meets Carrie ( MacDowell), but circumstances, bad timing, and his musings on love and relationships prevent him from fully committing. It’s a delightful romp, tempered with that trademark British wit and the genre’s irresistible sweetness. Four Weddings may not have gained the same box-office fame as Notting Hill, but its status as a cult classic tells you all you need to know about its quality.

Crime films usually have cops chase down robbers, not become them. This quirk in Andre Stander’s life makes him the perfect subject for a biopic, as this life-changing career shift must have had a compelling motivation. It’s certainly a great reason to make awesome action sequences, daring escapes, and, of course, the swindling scenes. It’s fun to watch. However, as the plot progresses, and the crimes get bigger and bigger, the film ends up losing sight of its main character, paying more attention to the capers instead of the reason behind it, and whether or not that reason is true. Stander is a heist film that forgets it’s a biopic, but it’s more fun because of it.

While the enemy of my enemy is my friend, the two leads in The Gangster, the Cop, the Devil are more like an uneasy alliance of rivals competing to hunt down a serial killer. This isn’t a new concept. Filmmakers all over the world are fond of putting together two opposite characters and making them butt heads. But in the hands of writer-director Lee Won-tae, a criminally powerful Ma Dong-seok and an intense Kim Mu-yeol still prove to be a compelling match to watch. The slick fight scenes, the brutal kills, and the intense chases all capture their dynamic performances in a stylish and moving way.

Treeless Mountain is a depressing film. The premise is already sad enough, but it’s more heartbreaking to actually witness the kids slowly reckon with their mom abandoning them, clinging to her lie that she’ll return when their piggy bank gets full, and resorting to grilling grasshoppers for petty change. This mostly works because writer-director So Yong Kim honors that hurt by depicting their journey naturally. The camera shoots at their eye level, capturing the subtle realizations these girls have as they try to make sense of the world without guidance. Treeless Mountain understands their pain, simply letting the experience speak for itself.

Given the premise, it’s no surprise that Hollow Reed is melodramatic. There’s some sad backstory, dramatic confrontations, an evil stepfather, and a heavy handed approach to depicting its issues. Still, the family drama works because of its performances. Martin Donovan portrays a concerned British father so well that it’s easy to forget he’s American. Joely Richardson also adds some in-depth to the bitter ex-wife she portrays. Admittedly, the material for the ex-wife’s boyfriend wasn’t as well-written, since the film wanted to prioritize gay parental custody over a nuanced discussion of abuse. Nonetheless, Hollow Reed presents its story in a solid, if predictable, way.

Beasts Clawing at Straws is so fun to watch. Most crime thriller fans would find the MacGuffin money, the dubious characters, and the nonlinear timeline familiar, but the way Kim Yong-hoon depicts the 2011 Japanese novel is pretty stylish and engaging. It takes a while to set up, though. As the film steadily introduces new plot threads, the first half can feel a bit confusing. However, by the midpoint, these threads all weave into a series of comedic pay-offs, bringing those who yearn for the cash to unexpectedly satisfying ends. While a bit uneven, Beasts Clawing at Straws is entertaining from start to finish.

Is there anything more cringeworthy than an awful date? What Happened Was is entirely centered on one between two co-workers, and while some of the first date jitters explain part of the awkwardness, the two sadly don’t connect well. They don’t have easygoing chemistry. Even as they share deeply personal things, they can’t seem to feel the sense of intimacy they want from each other. It also doesn’t help that it’s filmed like a play, as if they were on stage with different scripts. But because they both have the same goal, it makes for great drama. Their shared goal of wanting the date to work clashes deeply with how they each try to communicate, poignantly depicting how difficult it can be to be vulnerable. It may be a disappointing evening for Jackie and Michael, but nevertheless What Happened Was is an interesting romcom about wanting not to be alone.

Given that it’s a survival film, and Charlie is asked to bring Kanaalaq to the hospital, there’s a sense that The Snow Walker would be a white savior narrative, but in the tundra this time. To a certain extent, the film does play into the usual structure. The white pilot Charlie is practically helpless without modern tools, and so has to learn a bit of Inuit culture from Kanaalaq in the name of survival and becoming a better, non-racist person. So it’s genuinely surprising to see them get to know each other better. It’s great to see them delve into both of the personal histories that brought them together, and delve deep enough that they simply can’t be mere stereotypes. And it’s beautifully shot in gorgeous landscapes of the tundra. While unfortunately interrupted with moments of the people back home, The Snow Walker is a lovely twist to the survival drama.

Given how plenty of the issues mentioned still linger today, The Baader Meinhof Complex is hesitant to take a side and condemn or defend the group it depicts. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Having some distance from the subject helps keep the accuracy of the events, which is already thrilling and controversial enough on its own. It’s what makes the film interesting. Rather than choose a side, Director Uli Edel and writer-producer Bernd Eichinger take their story to explore what it means to fight for one’s ideals in a modern world, raising more questions than providing conclusive answers. It’s this intricacy makes The Baader Meinhof Complex not an easy watch, but an intriguing one nonetheless.

Adventure films now seem to only be CGI blockbusters, but it used to be about real world exploration. They were exciting films shot outside their production countries that showcased beloved actors in new worlds for their domestic audiences, however they became understandably passé due to growing critique of colonization. Kon-Tiki brings back that classic style through recreating the titular voyage. It’s a pretty exciting one, even though it’s not fully accurate and sometimes predictable. There’s an old-timey feel in the direction, but the film thankfully sidesteps some of the issues the genre has faced by focusing on their time at sea, rather than use Polynesia as just an exotic background. Kon-Tiki is a fun adventure that brings back world exploration to today’s cinema.

A fantastic return to form for disgraced actor Mel Gibson, Get the Gringo is proof that you can have all the controversy you want off-screen, and come back to make a great piece of film. Fast, entertaining and crazy, Get the Gringo is a wild tale of a crime gone bad and eventually, becomes a fish out of water story of the lone ‘gringo’ in a Mexican prison. Perhaps most unbelievably, the film even makes you go “ahh Mel Gibson”, and reminds you of his charm and talent. Nice comeback Mel.

Do you know those movies where you just look at the poster and you go “damn this will be good”? This is absolutely not one of those, but I promise, it’s still great. Warrior is surprisingly sophisticated for its genre, awesomely executed and what about the acting you say? Hardy and Edgerton are strong together (pun intended). Warrior is a movie filled with authentic emotions designed to give you hope that something unconventional can still come out of the genre.

Bree (Felicity Huffman) is an uptight transwoman who gets a phone call from her long lost son who is in trouble. She does not tell him she is his father but bails him out of jail and they end up on a long road trip to LA. Bree’s high strung conservative personality intersecting with a wild young man and people they meet along the way leads to some comical situations. Felicity Huffman’s performance is excellent. It is enjoyable to watch the characters develop over the film.

Can you imagine Steve Martin in a serious role? If not, you seriously need to watch this movie! More plot twists than an Agatha Christie novel, so many that my son had to watch it again the minute it was over. Not a lot of special effects, but this is a seriously complex mystery drama that is incredibly (believe-it-or-not) family friendly, with absolutely minimal language or violence. No one is as they seem… I won’t even begin to try to explain why… just watch and wait to be stumped and stunned!

You know Anthony Hopkins as the evil Hannibal Lecter, but in this film he gives a warm and heartfelt performance portraying real life New Zealand motorcycle legend Burt Munro who set a land speed record in 1967 on a hand-built 1920 Indian. It’s a story of never giving up on your dream even in the face of ridicule and opposition. Hopkins’ performance turns what could have been just another schmaltzy formulaic story line into true gold. You’ll be cheering for Burt/Anthony by the end!

Shot as a single day, it tells the story of college professor George (Colin Firth) who, unable to cope with the death of his partner months prior, resolves to commit suicide. The movie is not all dark, however, there are moving, deeply human encounters as George moves through his last day. Fashion designer Tom Ford’s directorial debut and set in 1960s Los Angeles, it speaks powerfully of the colour-stripping effects of grief and loneliness. Fantastic performance also by Julianne Moore as Charley, an equally lonely and desperate character, but with a markedly different story. A Single Man is a gorgeous film in every sense of the word.

Summary: it’s a really unusual movie, especially for a star like Robin Williams. It’s almost an indie film actually. Robin Williams plays Lance Clayton, the father of a typical rude teenage boy Kyle Clayton (Daryl Sabara) wherein Sabara’s character meets an unusual demise, and out of embarrassment of the situation the father ghost-writes a suicide note from his son. This white lie leads to another and another and so on until his lies spread further than anticipated. The movie definitely earns points for making the film that was set out to be made. They wanted to make a dark comedy and a dark comedy was what they made. It’s even uncomfortable to watch at times. Between Lance’s love life and Kyle’s non-existent one there’s enough awkwardness that you feel like you can’t wait to get to the next scene just so this one can be over. All in all the actors did a truly fantastic job. Each character seemed well developed by the individual actor to the point where every gesture, line delivery, and awkward silence seemed too natural and organic. Additionally, the writing was exceptional for this movie, as no dialogue was ever wasted. Each and every little detail in each and every shot of each and every scene was very carefully designed to continually push the aesthetics, this film is a big success.

Slow West is a modern western about a young Scotsman (Kodi Smit-McPhee) trekking across America in search of Rose, the young woman he loves, while accompanied by a wayward outlaw named Silas (Michael Fassbender). Jay soon realizes that he is unwittingly leading a pack of nefarious bounty hunters toward Rose and her father as well, as a sizable reward rests on their heads for the accidental killing of a nobleman. It’s a melancholy yet clever and enjoyable film with a distinct Coen Brothers-esque sense of dark humor and quirky violence. In his debut feature, John Maclean gives the western a fresh spin and a nice creative twist, marking his territory as a promising new name in the film world.

Robyn Davidson decided to cross 1,700 miles in the Australian desert with four camels and her trusty dog, and this film recounts her real-life journey. In many ways this is a companion piece to Reese Witherspoon’s Wild, also released in theaters in 2014. While I enjoyed Wild, it went out of its way to make the protagonist’s journey understood to audiences. Tracks gives Robyn some light shading and backstory, but unlike Wild it almost focuses solely on her journey across the desert. And what a desert it is! The scenery is shot beautifully and we feel as though we are truly on this daring journey with her, traveling alien landscapes with little to depend on beyond our animal companions and our wits. We know the outcome (since this is a true story) but we are still thrilled to see how it unfolds. What does it all mean, and what was the journey’s purpose? Thankfully, in the end, the answer is left as enigmatic as the heroine herself.

City Island is a lighthearted comedy/drama about the Rizzo family, residents of the titular fishing community in The Bronx, New York. Andy Garcia plays the patriarch of the family who works as a corrections officer, and who decides one day to bring home a young ex-con named Tony under somewhat mysterious circumstances. Tony soon becomes entwined in the dysfunctional household as he develops varying relationships with each family member, even as each of them lives their own secret life apart from the rest. This secrecy drives much of the plot, as their personal mysteries play out in an unexpected and often amusing ways. It’s a lively slice-of-life full of boisterous characters, comedic misunderstandings and ultimately a warm embrace of family unity.

Arguably Werner Herzog’s most renowned film, Grizzly Man is a thought-provoking documentary about Tim Treadwell, a man who, as the title suggests, lived among bears. While he remained only known for how his story ended, by one of the bears turning on him, Grizzly Man is the exploration of the man’s complex mind, unlimited energy and love for nature. It could be because of the subject matter or because of Herzog’s mesmerizing monotone narration, and maybe it is because of both – but Grizzly Man becomes a supremely beautiful look at psychology and how it collides nature. Also like most of Herzog’s other work it’s a hunt for the peculiar, so expect many funny, absurd, and charming moments.

A documentary that reveals just how insane the men that compete in the MotoGP are. It follows Valentino Rossi, one of the best riders of all-time if not the best, in a very pivotal season for him, 2010-2011. An in depth look into his competitiveness but also his passion for the sport and for the machines in it, it’s the kind of portrait that will make you feel you know the subject in person. And when it’s not focused on Rossi, it becomes a a real-life thrill fest of bike-mounted cameras of riders going at it at 200+mph.  A must-watch for gear-heads and uninitiated fans alike that plays with the idea that “if you want to win it all…you have to risk it all”.

Joy Division, formerly known as Warsaw, was a brilliant rock group that served its time and something that has lived through decades with the help of their songs, love for fans, and legendary performances – unfortunately for his band-mates and singer Ian Curtis, this picture-perfect scenery was cut short. Control is an exploration of his personal and professional musings, adding to the woes of his romantic troubles and inner desire to somehow break free from his deteriorating health.
Thoroughly processed in black and white, this enthralling biopic starring the brooding, and then-relatively unknown Sam Riley is all parts gut-wrenching and borderline extraordinary.

Hotel Salvation is a touching movie about a father asking his son for a last wish : let him die in the Holy city of Varanasi. This Indian drama will let you discover a modern Hindu philosophy, the power of the scenic Varanasi and the bonds of family. It faces the question of death in the light, gentle and humorous way that perfectly illustrates the contradiction in question: celebrating life while surrounded by death.

A very particular dark comedy. If it’s for you, you’ll find it to be hilarious and thought provoking. If not, you might find it too weird and a bit slow. The movie centers around the relationships between couples having brunch together one morning and what happens when they are hit by a weird tragedy. Not only do you get to learn a lot about the characters, it offers you the opportunity to put yourself in their unlikely situation. Watch this movie with a friend and you’ll have a lot to talk about for sure, it as one of the best endings I’ve ever seen in a movie. It’s one of those films you can’t say too much about without giving it away, but it’s definitely worth the watch.

Anna Kendrick and Blake Lively star in this crime-comedy as two opposite mom personalities: one a stay-at-home food vlogger, and the other an upper-class businesswoman.

Kendrick’s character (Stephanie, the vlogger mom) agrees to pick up her new friend’s kid from school. However, the kid’s mom disappears, leaving Stephanie to lead an investigation on her own into what happened.

This is a funny no-brainer carried by the two leads’ unlikely but genuine chemistry.

Escape from Mogadishu follows diplomats from the North and South Korean embassies as they put aside their differences and work together to escape from an outbreak of civil war in Mogadishu, Somalia. Director Ryoo Seung-wan provides thrilling, high-budget action, especially intense car chases and suspenseful escape scenes that pump you with adrenaline and leave you on the edge of your seat. However, the Somali side of the story leaves much to be desired. Only existing to kill or be killed, the depiction of the Somalians is distasteful, and the country it’s set in seen as nothing more than a senseless warzone.

It’s in crafting a political thriller where Ryoo strikes a chord, following the tradition of South Korean films and dramas that question the current South/North relations. It’s also the aspect that pushed this film to win awards, given that it’s based on a true story from the 1991 civil war in Somalia, albeit with blockbuster flair. Sure, it’s a highly fictionalized story, but the political tensions and heightened atmosphere make good entertainment. And, as with all Korean thrillers, you’ll have to get on a certain wavelength of melodrama to be fully on board with the bonkers yet emotional escape.

Johnny is a story you’ve heard of a thousand times, but what makes it particularly endearing is that it’s all true and based on the real-life Father Jan Kaczkowski, a priest who went out of his way to help others. Kaczkowski led an extraordinary life, and the film honors that not by putting him on a pedestal but by emphasizing his humanness and humanity. As the misunderstood thief who befriends Kaczkowski, Piotr Trojan turns in a believable and realized performance, solidifying the film’s credibility. 

Johnyy’s premise is far from novel, but it is an effectively heartwarming film about forgiveness and second chances.

This Hits Home has an important mission: make the connection between traumatic brain injury and domestic abuse victims more well-known to the public. Every day, wives, girlfriends, and children get their skulls knocked, slammed, and smashed by their abusers, their heads targeted because the injuries are easier to hide and the symptoms of trauma don’t manifest until much later. But despite this prevalent violence, concussions and brain disorders are less associated with domestic abuse than they are in contact sports like wrestling and football. This Hits Home gathers experts and victims alike to change that conversation. It’s a noble effort, but it’s unfortunately masked by weird editing choices that ultimately weaken a strong premise. The film interviews multiple experts in the same field, so it often feels like it’s going in circles instead of propelling forward with new points. In an effort to be comprehensive, it includes commentaries from incidental subjects, which creates a lull that detracts from the main focus. And maybe the biggest fault here is that it relies too much on the survivors’ (admittedly powerful) anecdotes, so much so that it fails to bring any of its own flourishes to the documentary. I appreciate the filmmakers opting to be more straightforward than sensationalist, especially with such a sensitive topic. Still, without its own clear voice and cinematic style, it fails to set itself apart from the many informational videos that are already out there. 

When it comes to being a drama with a cohesive and understandable message, Swing Kids falters, and doesn’t make it clear whether or not the film advocates for either pro-capitalist or pro-communist ideas– understandably so, considering how to this day, the peninsula remains split in part due to foreign intervention. The film is a bit too long, and struggles to juggle multiple tones, being a violent war drama, slapstick comedy, and fun tap-dancing musical all at once. But, when the film revels in dance and celebrates the connections made through it, the film shines, creating an incredible sonic soundscape composed entirely of rhythmic taps and sweeping brass, with the five leads dancing in pure joy. Swing Kids is not perfect, but it has heart and it recognizes the waste and tragedy of the human side that is lost due to war.

If there’s one obvious thing that keeps Kano from becoming great, it’s the fact that it takes a little over three hours just to get through. It certainly can be trimmed down by a lot, but going through the three hours isn’t too bad of a time, seeing as it celebrates the real life Taiwanese baseball team through a feel-good, if a bit familiar, underdog story of a small island team winning against some of Japan’s best high school rosters. The film shines when it focuses on baseball– It feels like you’re actually in the stands of the arena, with the matches moving the plot forward and realistically hammering home the love of the sport. That being said, the backstory of the characters plays out in a melodramatic fashion, and while it does depict some of the racism the team faced, the film seems to be reluctant on commenting on the immediate parallels to Japan’s colonization of Taiwan. For better or worse, Kano prioritizes the sport to the detriment of every other plotline.

This is not what you are looking for if you are not into slow movies. It ambles along like the East-Texas drawls that populate it, taking its sweet time and letting the story gradually roll out. This true-story-based film is driven by a strong and witty performance from Jack Black –just not the Jack Black you know. A different kind of movie, Bernie is an entertaining mix of true crime and comedy.

A French romantic comedy set in the 1950s, it’s like a “She’s All That” with Mad Men aesthetics. Sounds like an odd mix? This film is odd, but does it so well. It’s a quirky and triumphant look at women’s rise to respect in the workforce. A girl destined for a quiet life sees her true potential come to life when she joins an insurance agent as his secretary. Together they train for a speed-typing contest, and together, they fall in love.

Loss can be straightforwardly heartwrenching, but it could also be bewildering, cryptic, and too sudden to even process. New Religion depicts a grieving mother, whose loss of her daughter, and her meet up with an eccentric photographer, causes her to behave strangely. The film goes through the events in a surreal, existential haze, with a skin-crawling scene that reveals the photographer’s nefarious reasons, but the sequences remain inscrutable and the themes and certain characters don’t mesh as well as they could have. New Religion might befuddle viewers just looking for a casual watch, but it’s definitely a thought provoking and promising debut from Keishi Kondo.

An intelligent and very funny comedy film which isn’t formulaic, doesn’t rely on tired old cliches and situations. I watched this film with no preconceptions and was frankly blown away by how good it was. It features sympathetic and believable characters and you yearn to know about them. Proof also that you don’t necessarily need big name stars to make a great movie. Enjoy it, it’s a gem.

“There is no ethical consumption under capitalism,” a famous socialist belief goes, but like many activists, Jo is trying to curb that. She marries her two conflicting passions, coffee and the environment, by establishing a vegan cafe that only serves plant-based drinks. If a customer so much as mentions dairy, they’re humiliated before being kicked out of the place. It’s both impressively assertive and gratingly obnoxious, which is something you could also say about the tone the entire film strikes. It’s well-meaning in its attempt to shed light on the ongoing climate crisis, but rather tone-deaf in trying to place the blame on everyday consumers rather than large-scale corporations. The editing choices, while meant to be cheeky, also go overboard with the cuts and colors, making it more annoying than anything else. Which is a shame, because apart from a noble cause, Coffee Wars also has a funny script and engaging performances going for it. It also gives us an insightful look into the highly competitive coffee tournaments being staged around the world. If only Coffee Wars let things brew for longer, maybe removed some elements and expanded others—specifically, dwell more on the contradiction of wanting to change a system while participating in it—then it would’ve been even more enjoyable and educational than it is. 

Painfully intimate and told with very, very little dialogue, All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt resembles the experience of flipping through a photo book and pausing to admire every page. Which is to say that this is a film that requires not only one’s complete attention but—like many other arthouse dramas—a willingness to sit with the mundane until it reveals something more profound. The nearly silent nature of its storytelling can be a little awkward, given how lifelike the rest of the movie is, but one should hopefully get used to the idea that this is an attempt to represent something closer to memory than reality. Whether or not the experience sticks or strikes an emotional chord, it’s all beautifully put together, with lush cinematography, impeccably detailed sound design, and thoughtful sequencing of one image after another.

While best known for his American action thrillers in the early 2000s, writer-director Lee Tamahori returned to his roots in 2016 with the critically acclaimed Māori-centric 1950s historical drama Mahana. Tamahori continues to explore his people’s stories with The Convert. Set right before Britain colonized New Zealand, the film explores the dynamics between the white settlers and the differing Māori tribes, with much more accuracy and sympathy than older films towards the indigenous community, culture, and characters. It’s shot quite beautifully, with stunning landscapes and decent fight scenes, and the performances, especially that of Guy Pearce, make the film watchable. That being said, the film still mostly stems from the white Thomas Munro, whose perspective mostly comes about by passive observation rather than active participation in the story.

Composed of archival footage of the titular musical legend and testimonials from those who worked with him or whose lives were profoundly impacted by his courage, Little Richard: I Am Everything feels comprehensive but is also oddly lacking. The documentary makes a bold, confident claim: that all popular music today can be directly traced to his work. And when the film lets itself get into full music nerd mode, it’s easy to be convinced. But after you accept that perspective on Little Richard, the rest of the movie seems like it’s just spinning its wheels, covering key moments in the artist’s life and career without really challenging or substantiating long-held ideas about him.

Chief among these is Little Richard’s shifting feelings toward his own queerness—proudly expressing his true self one year, then openly denouncing his own homosexuality the next. This subject matter is ripe for difficult but insightful analysis, which the film just never gets around to. It begins to feel like the believes there is no more discussion to be had about him. And that may very well be true; he deserves the flowers that were denied him for so long. But this attitude doesn’t necessarily make for the best documentary.

Come for Paul Rudd, stay for Paul Rudd. Yes, Paul Rudd is absolutely amazing in this. Not only is his acting smooth, believable and innocent; his profile fits the role perfectly. Backed with a strong supporting cast, and a great story line as well as a fair amount of laughs, this movie is simply charming!

When your parent decides to marry another person with kids, it can feel like you’re not really part of the family, more so, if you’re forced to move to a completely different country altogether. This is the unsettling feeling that drives Cuckoo, directly inspired by the way some cuckoo species engage in brood parasitism, or rely on other birds to raise their young. It’s an interesting concept, and the feeling of exclusion and being out of place is evoked expertly by Hunter Schafer of Euphoria fame, but why Gretchen’s antagonists would bother to do all of this is over-explained yet still feels quite nonsensical. For horror fans willing to go on this bizarre ride, Cuckoo is visually inventive, unnervingly scored, and decently performed, and would be enjoyable, as long as you don’t really think about the logistics of this strange parenting situation.

Frankly, In the Morning of La Petite Mort is not as provocative nor as erotic as implied by the title. Sure, there are sex scenes, with plenty of nude shots. But these scenes come about silently, nearly without dialogue, with a lack of passion in between most of the lovers, a lack of connectedness. It’s no less visceral, though, as it mirrors the same disconnection the characters feel, being at the margins of Taipei. While it’s sometimes muddled with certain subplots, the haunting, strikingly-shot images stirs some compassion, especially with the cast’s performances, but the indirect approach makes the film feel unclear and sometimes unrealistic.

When you know that you’re dying, it’s quite lucky to be stuck in a time loop, which is what happens to Zoya Lowe in the science fiction drama Omni Loop. It plays out in a familiar way, where going through the loop means having multiple tries to figure out how to end the loop, and learning the lesson the loop has to offer, but unlike other time loop stories, the lead purposely triggers the time loop, in order to stave off death. It’s an interesting addition, one that makes a well-worn, but understandable conclusion to let go and move on, but Omni Loop struggles to balance the comedy and the drama, muddling the film’s tone and being tame for a film primarily concerned about mortality.

For its first half-hour or so, Saw X really doesn’t feel like an entry in the long-running horror series commonly described by detractors as “torture porn.” It’s quiet and steadily paced and does a better job than many horror sequels and reboots of recent years in making its primary antagonist a sympathetic human being. The way the character of John Kramer (AKA Jigsaw) has been written here—elevated by Tobin Bell’s performance—gives even the film’s later, more extreme segments a hint of soulfulness, since we’re made to feel exactly what drives his self-appointed mission to exact justice on other terrible people.

But this new, dramatic spin on Saw doesn’t last for very long, and this tenth film eventually slides back into its trademark cheesy elements that won’t make any new converts to the series. Overly aggressive editing and music, hammy performances from the supporting cast, and death traps that grow increasingly unimaginative all dull the greater impact that Saw X could have had. The batch of victims we get this time around are somewhat compelling given their connections they have to each other and to Kramer himself, but they’re still ultimately more of the same—just cannon fodder waiting for execution.

With the success of Killers of the Flower Moon, there’s a renewed interest in authentic and respectful depictions of Native American stories. Low budget supernatural horror might not be the best approach, considering its history of stereotyping, but The Windigo is a fairly sincere stab at reframing the genre. The wicked looking, titular creature pulls together plenty of the issues Native Americans currently face, such as forgotten culture, violence, and institutional negligence, but the film also surprisingly delves into past collective trauma some of these communities have experienced. The Windigo plays out the way you would expect a creature feature to be, but the film could have been so much more with better execution.

A fascinating kernel of certainty is padded out with giddy speculation in this documentary about a pair of unlikely art thieves. The facts are as such: 32 years after a $160 million painting by abstract artist Willem de Kooning was crudely cut from its frame in an Arizona gallery, a trio of small-town antique dealers discovered it in Jerry and Rita Alter’s estate sale. The Thief Collector is less interested in the painting itself  — in fact, it’s openly dismissive about its artistic value — and more curious about how it fell into the hands of the mysterious couple, who frequently took exotic trips around the world despite their modest teacher incomes.

There are certainly intriguing questions raised by the Alters’ possession of the painting and compelling evidence that places them as the thieves, but this documentary can’t offer any convincing original theses of its own. It does try, by suggesting that the short stories Jerry wrote — about more thefts and gorier crimes — were thinly disguised autobiographical recollections, but it finds nothing to back these theories up except for a few loosely relevant anecdotes from relatives. With too many what-ifs to go on, it all makes for an intriguing but ultimately unsatisfying deep dive.

It is one of those movies in which you cannot separate fun from sincerity and poetry from pain. 100 Girls is a good teen movie, and those are becoming very rare. The beauty and diversity of the other students is presented through the eyes of a romantic young man, with their own particularities, contradictions, hopes, secrets and desires. While the main character is trying to find who he think is the love of his life, we discover with him, and thanks to his comments (with a delicious sense of humor), we also catch the complexity of each character. The film has the amazing skill to see the beauty in each one of the characters, both girls and boys. Hope you will enjoy!

Editor Note: This movie has low ratings, A Good Movie to Watch exceptionally adds low-rated movies when reviewers show passion about the suggestion. Our rationale is that if they firmly consider it a good movie, others are likely to share the same opinion. 

To be fair to this visibly low-budget adaptation of H. G. Wells’ seminal science-fiction novel, it doesn’t always settle for the cheap way out. Though it still leaves much to be desired in its visual effects, awkward action scenes, and generally unimaginative direction, Fear the Invisible Man makes a valiant effort to deepen its story by placing a strong, unlikely protagonist at its center (played in all seriousness and with admirable resolve by Mhairi Calvey). Since the titular villain isn’t actually the star of the show—nor is he made out to be an ever-present threat, like in the modern 2020 adaptation—this version of The Invisible Man is able to circle relatively newer ideas about a woman’s “invisible” place in the world, and how she’s tempted to go down a path of pride and violence. If only the rest of the film could keep up with the script’s ambition.

In a time where the Metaverse feels more and more a looming presence, hoping to crown our complex realities with its utopian promise, it’s only natural to expect a film set precisely there. Director L.E. Staiman took a chance with Love Virtually, but his attempt to make a zany, absurdist rom-com (riffing off the title of your aunt’s annual Christmas rewatch) simply fails. The premise sees a few couples on the brink of breaking up reconnect with the help of VR headsets, challenging each other’s commitment, or cheating with each other (without knowing it of course). A rather funny gambit gets sucked into a vortex of dullness when the characters speak, their dialogues irksome to the point of second-hand embarrassment. Instead of exploring the possibilities of VR relations through an ironic lens, the film seems to not even care enough to look for the genuine comedic potential of the Metaverse as a concept-turned-space. Even the three separate references to Timothée Chalamet don’t make a difference to how surprisingly retrograde and somehow banal all of this feels.

Being based on the 1989 Patrick Swayze movie, we weren’t expecting much from the new Road House on Amazon Prime. Like the original, it has fun fight sequences, shot in a way that brings us to the bar itself, and it’s amusing to see actual MMA fighter Conor McGregor acting as an antagonist. However, this adaptation rewrites the main character to be a former UFC fighter, turning the story into something more akin to an outsider cowboy Western rather than a bouncer action drama. It’s not outright terrible, but it just feels uneven, and the cast performances can’t make up for the thinly written characters. It also just doesn’t feel like Road House.

First shown in 2021 Madrid International Film Festival, Support Group Olympus made its US debut early 2023 through Prime Video. Given the wacky premise, it was easy to assume that the film would be humorous, and there are moments when its dry humor shines. However, the film takes a more contemplative approach, as the unchanging gods refuse to change, though they crave the status and power they used to have. This slow-paced approach feels appropriate, and had the film’s internal logic worked, the film could have contemplated the changes that happened not just to the gods, but to human livelihood as well. It’s definitely a unique story that needed more work on its execution.

This B-movie sci-fi-action-thriller from co-writer-director Robert Rodriguez starts out like a hammy pastiche of (the already overdone) Taken, but its interminable succession of galaxy-brain twists reveals other obvious influences — among them Inception, Memento, and Shutter Island. Fine ingredients, but the recipe is all wrong, as a gravelly-voiced, seemingly barely awake Ben Affleck sleepwalks his way through the cringy dialogue. Alongside William Fichtner in shady supervillain mode, Affleck is joined in that endeavor by Alice Braga as the psychic who is (seemingly) helping his Detective Rourke track down his (again, seemingly!) kidnapped daughter, though what Braga mostly does is hold the audience’s hand and explain the plot’s increasingly convoluted sci-fi elements to us. At one point, she tells Rourke that “pain keeps the mind awake” — and, while the excruciating script doesn’t seem to have that effect on Affleck (judging from his lethargic performance), it’s hard not to find yourself a little enlivened by Hypnotic’s sheer absurdity.

You can tell that Blaze director Del Kathryn Barton is an award-winning visual artist first and foremost. The images that she puts together in this film are frequently stunning—making use of the camera in fascinating, freeing ways, and with lots of practical and computer-generated/animated effects that paint her young protagonist Blaze’s world in glitter and feathers and lush colors. The imaginary dragon, which acts as a shorthand to symbolize Blaze’s complex psychological response to her trauma, is a wonderfully tactile life-size puppet that lead actress Julia Savage responds to in an entirely convincing way.

But you can also tell that this is Barton’s debut feature. Ultimately her visuals don’t do enough to shake off or give meaning to the graphic scene of rape and murder that occurs at the beginning of the film. And the way she structures the movie threatens to make it feel like a series of music videos or video art pieces. Despite its originality and the level of commitment displayed by both Savage and Simon Baker, Blaze has difficulty communicating a coherent message about trauma—the film strung together by heavy-handed scenes that spell out various ideas and lead to the most obvious conclusions.

The opening titles of this French procedural drama explicitly tell us that the crime it chronicles will go unsolved, confessing that it’s about one of the approximately 160 murder cases that police don’t crack each year. An ambitious and intriguing opener — suggesting that, in the absence of a clean resolution, the film will nonetheless offer us something equally compelling, as Zodiac does. 

In following the investigation of the brutal murder of 21-year-old Clara (Lula Cotton-Frapier) — for which the police interrogate various of her exes, all misogynistic potential murderers in their own ways — the film seeks to explore the society-wide “problem between men and women” that has given the police its surplus of suspects. Alas, it’s much more interested in the psychological impact cold cases have on policemen like frustrated captain Yohan (Bastien Bouillon). There’s something deeply ironic about making a movie about the systemic dehumanization of women just to center male perspectives, especially when their only insight into the epidemic of toxic masculinity is Yohan’s clunky “We can’t find the murderer because all men killed Clara.” The film’s treatment of the victim herself — incurious and downright gratuitous in the depiction of her murder — cements it as a shallow, un-self-aware, and failed attempt to reckon with a subject that deserved its full focus.

Based on the autobiography of real-life evangelical pastor Greg Laurie, Jesus Revolution recounts how a Christian movement in the ’60s turned lost hippies into dedicated Christians. It was an interesting moment in time, but instead of delving into the movement’s peculiarities and intricacies, Jesus Revolution offers a myopic tale that paints Laurie as a hero and the movement as inspirational when, really, they are anything but. Laurie’s story never feels significant enough to justify a feature film and the movement never seems as radical as the film thinks it to be. And even though it’s autobiographical, it never really digs into Laurie’s spirituality and interiority deep enough to reveal complex truths. In fact, everyone’s a caricature in this simplistic film that feels more like propaganda as it paints religion as perfect and all-saving while glossing over its many imperfections and questionable rhetoric. It could have worked as commentary, satire, or maybe even a sincere memoir, but as it is, it just feels like a short-sighted attempt at telling history.

There is a version of Moon Students that solely focuses on the students of color themselves, victims of racial profiling and injustice, instead of their white teacher and his overbearing white guilt. That would’ve been a slightly better movie to watch, but even then, Moon Students seems broken beyond repair. The film is riddled with technical blunders. The timeframe is confusing, the pacing is off, and the dialogue is unrealistic (and unintentionally funny, because what young person actually says, with full sincerity, “You know what time is it? Party time!”). The actors deserve credit for breathing a bit of life into a limp script, and the cinematography can be nice at times—fuzzy and hazy like an LA dream. But the film’s misguided sense of justice ultimately brings it down.

In TV and cinema, meeting your partner’s parents is a tried-and-tested formula that’s bound to generate relatable laughs. Meet the Parents, The Proposal, and Happiest Season are some modern classics that come to mind. Yet, French Girl fumbles this opportunity by peddling cliche after cliche with zero charm. Braff’s character is supposed to possess at least an inkling of likeability for us to root for him, but he can’t even manage that. His rival Ruby (Vanessa Hudgens) is so much more inviting that the film has to create a whole new evil arc for her in the third act to convince us to turn on her. This is all too bad because, beneath the rubble that is the film’s characters and plot lines, there is something true and endearing in the form of Sophie’s family. I wish we had more of those scenes because their interactions feel real and intimate. Unrestricted by formula and pressures to be funny, they soar.

There is a clear and wide gap between what Maximum Truth wants to be and what it actually is. What it wants to be is a silly but smart sendup of right-wing activism and the rampant disinformation the movement propels. What it ends up being is an occasionally funny but mostly tiresome film that falls flat thanks to caricature performances and flimsy arguments that essentially work against the film’s supposed ideals. In a self-contradictory twist, it actually helps the conservatives it claims to poke fun at by proving just how dumb liberal humor can be. The running gag about Rick being in the closet feels outdated at best and offensive at worst, while Simon being the typical airheaded jock does nothing to subvert the trope. It’s baffling that a film like this could come out in 2023; ultimately it just seems like a terrible waste of everyone’s time. 

Filmmaking is a difficult thing. And there are countless filmmakers—the directors of this film included—who have strong ideas and just need the right time and support to have their vision realized. But there’s no other way around it: Colonials was not ready to leave the pre-production phase, much less ready to be released on streaming. Non-existent production values, embarrassing visuals, unfinished sound design that leaves most of the actors muffled and unintelligible, incoherent world building, dumb action, and terrible performances—there really isn’t anything worth checking out here. That the film has the gall to tease a potential sequel feels cruel.